My Hero
by Mickis
Summary: Nine yearold Mikey's hero is injured when playing too close to Raph. Brotherly one shot


**Disclaimer:** Here I am, and I still DON'T ownthe TMNT.

**A/N:** _I don't know if you've noticed that I've been gone for a while? Anyway, I'm down with the flu, and I wrote this little piece while dying from boredom in my bed. I wasn't planning on posting it until I'm "officially well", but I woke up just now - in the middle of the night - and went to get myself something to drink. And I just couldn't help myself, so I decided to post this before I go back to bed. It's really short, but please, do review if you read. I would really, really appreciate it. Oh, and FYI, this is the first time I've ever attempted to write chibi turtles. Enjoy!_

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**MY HERO**

by

Mickis

**Genre:** General

**Language:** English

**Rating:** G

**Summary:** _Nine year-old Mikey's hero is injured when playing too close to Raph. (Brotherly one shot)_

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"Adventure hung in the dark New York City air. Trouble was going down in one of the closed factories by the harbor - and there was only _one_ turtle brave enough to stop it..." 

"Put a sock in it, Mikey!" Raph called, tossing a couch pillow on his nine year-old brother to shut him up.

Michelangelo easily dodged the flying pillow, protecting his sacred collection of action figures with his body. He glared up at his older brother who laid sprawled on the living room couch, lazily tossing a popcorn into his mouth.

"You're ruining the mood, Raph!" Mike cried, getting up from his collection to make sure all of them were okay. It turned out the very hero of the group had broken one of his arms in the turbulent accident. Mikey picked the toy up to inspect the severity of the injury, deciding Donatello would have to fix it for him.

"I'll ruin more than that if ya don't move outta the way," Raph threatened, propping himself up on his elbows. "Move yer stupid toys elsewhere, yer blockin' the TV!" he ordered, waving his arm to get his little brother moving.

"They're not toys!" Mike argued whilst gathering up his action figures in his arms. "They're super heroes," he insisted.

"I don't care _what_ they are," Raph said, sending his little brother a rigid stare, "juz get rid of 'em!"

Michelangelo got up from the floor with his plastic friends in his embrace, glaring at his older brother with big, dark eyes.

Raphael looked like he could care less. The second Mikey wasn't blocking the view anymore he leaned back down in the couch, his eyes fixated on the television screen.

Mikey stomped off and found shelter in his and Donatello's room, walking up to his other brother who was tinkering with a broken radio he often picked apart for the fun of it.

"Hey, Donnie?" Mike inquired, causing his older brother to look up from the floor they shared. "You think you could fix him?" he asked, dropping the toy in question in front of the young boy.

Don set his screwdriver aside and reached out for the toy and its broken arm, staring at it with curiosity. "What happened?" he wondered, trying to see if anything important was broken or if he could simply reattach the arm.

"Raph threw a pillow at us," Mikey explained, seating himself on the floor across from his gifted brother, putting down his collection of toys in his lap. "Can you fix him?" he asked a second time.

Donnie turned back to the toy in his hand. "A part of the arm's missing," he said, observing the part he was talking about. "I'd have to glue it back, so you won't be able to play with him for a few hours." He put the toy down on the floor as he turned to look at his orange masked brother.

"A few _hours_?" Mike repeated, disappointment obvious on his voice. "But I have to be in bed right after dinner," he said, reminding his brother of the punishment their sensei had given him earlier that day as he broke a flower-pot when playing with his ball in the living room.

"I'm real sorry, Mikey," Donnie said apologetically, "but the glue needs a few hours to dry."

Mikey grunted in frustration, turning to look at the exit of the room. "Stupid Raph!" he cursed, crossing his arms in anger.

Donatello got up from the floor and patted his brother on the shoulder. "I'm sure he didn't mean to break it," he said, before walking up to his desk to fetch the small tube of glue he kept in one of the drawers.

"I bet he did it on purpose," Michelangelo muttered, completely oblivious to his brother's words of comfort.

Don shook his head as he lifted the broken toy from the floor to repair it, a small smile playing on his lips as he squeezed the tube, forcing out a tiny drop of glue to land on the red plastic of the arm. He made certain there was enough glue in the arm-socket before he pushed the arm back in its place, making sure it was positioned deep enough.

The purple clad turtle got up from the floor and placed the glued toy on his desk, where it could dry in peace. "You won't be able to bend the arm after it's dried," he informed his younger brother, who still sat on the floor with his arms crossed. "Gotta be more careful with him from now on."

Mikey turned to his brother with an alarming look on his face, "But he can still kick Dr. NoGood's ass, right?" he asked, almost pleading.

"Sure," Donatello answered, scraping with his nail to get rid of some glue on his hand. "As long as you're careful with his arm."

Mikey nodded, although it was obvious he was a little disappointed with his brother's answer.

Suddenly the voice of their master called out to inform them dinner was served.

Donnie hurried for the door, stopping for a moment to look at his younger sibling on the floor. "You coming?" he asked, earning a nod from the smaller turtle. Satisfied with his answer, Don left their room for the kitchen.

Michelangelo moved the toys out of his lap and got up from the floor. He walked up to the desk where his injured action figure laid, with a transparent trace of glue running down his red and white arm. He carefully lifted the toy from the desk, making sure he wasn't touching the arm.

"You'll be as good as new.. right, Raph?" he asked his little plastic hero, whom he so conveniently had named after his favorite brother. "I heard Dr. NoGood's planning on taking over New York," the young boy continued, "so you better be back on your feet when I wake up tomorrow."

He carefully put the toy down on the desk to dry before he sprinted after his brother to enjoy the dinner his father had cooked for them, having already forgotten he was mad at Raphael for breaking his favorite toy.


End file.
